Whatever Happened to the Phantasm?
by MadBat27
Summary: A continuation from the end of the film "Mask of the Phantasm". We know Joker didn't perish at Andrea's hands, so what did happen? How does Joker escape, and what fate befalls the Phantasm?
1. Angel of Death

"Goodbye, my love."

With a final, remorseful glance at Batman, Andrea made her escape. Using the smokescreen as cover, she made her way through the ruins of the attraction with the villainous Joker in toe. He was tall but lean and surprisingly light. Only his half-hearted struggles and the grating bouts of laughter made him difficult to carry.

As the explosions ripped through the World of Tomorrow, she headed south, dragging the semi-conscious clown behind. She was prepared to die, as long as the Joker went with her, but she'd prefer to know for sure. Joker had cheated death before. This time, she would know that he had perished, by her hand.

Flames swirled around them, engulfing the strange depictions of an unrealized future. Hover-cars toppled and melted in the inferno, robot house-keepers swooned from the heat and collapsed in a pile of rust and bolts. The virtual reality machine exploded, raining down sparks.

Batman was nowhere in sight.

Flames tickled her bare flesh scarring her arm. She barely felt it. Too long, she'd waited for her revenge. She kept on moving, her hand clenching tightly to the Joker's collar. He dragged his feet, but made no attempt to get away.

As they cleared the blast area, Joker began to giggle again.

"So much for the blaze of glory," he wheezed. "Guess you'll have to let me go. We'll try again tomorrow."

His suit was torn and his face bloodied. Locks of green hair strayed this way and that, unruly and singed. The skin around his left eye had a mottled blue tinge and was beginning to puff. His lip was already swollen and a few teeth were missing from his yellowed smile. _He isn't smiling now_, Andrea thought darkly.

In the dark of the night, they travelled, Joker staggering along behind, occasionally falling on his face. He laughed at every pratfall, mindless of the blood pouring from his nose. Andrea refused to show sympathy or mercy. Her father received none.

"We've got a bright future behind us, kid," Joker mumbled, his purple eyelid fluttering but refusing to open. He coughed, but Andrea guessed it was meant to be a laugh. "Why dredge up old memories?"

He'd noticed where they were. And where else? It seemed to be the epicentre of everything that concerned the Joker. It was where he was reborn; it was destined to be where he died.

Tonight.

Inside the Ace Chemicals factory, Andrea tied the Ace of Knaves to a waiting chair. She'd always intended to end it here, given the chance. There was every chance she'd be interrupted or he'd fight back and necessitate swift action. In that case, she would have dealt with him as she had Buzz and Chuckie.

But the overall aim was to bring him here. This way, she would have time to look into his eyes, to let him know what was coming. She would watch him squirm, hear him plead for mercy, and then she would drag the blade of her scythe from nose to navel.

She took the scythe from the crate where she had stowed it away on first arriving back in Gotham. Andrea had always intended for the Joker to see her face. Here, she could reveal her identity, kill the Joker and return to a normal life. But Bruce had seen her now. It was too late for that last part.

Joker had seen her too. He stared at her, looking into her eyes with a brazen smirk. Suddenly, she wished she had the mask of the phantasm. She longed for the smoke and the booming voice and feeling of power.

At least she had the scythe. She levelled it against the Joker's throat and bared her teeth. In the most hateful voice she could muster, she spoke. It wasn't the voice of the phantasm, but it had a chilling sound all of its own.

"Joe Napier, your Angel of Death awaits."


	2. Don't Fear The Reaper

Joker yawned obnoxiously.

"Boring! NEXT!"

Andrea hesitated. Joker looked disinterested.

"You're less fun than Bat-brains," Joker grumbled. "Don't get me wrong, it's a good shtick, but you've got a lot to learn about revenge kiddo."

"What are you babbling about?" Andrea demanded, furiously.

"Dramatic irony. Heard of it? You see, you don't just avenge a death. You don't see ol' Pengy and Scarecrow just offing their enemies. They have style, charisma, stage presence. Star quality. Even Miss Flower Power herself has the showmanship to put a thorn in their sides first. Or their eyes."

Joker sniggered. Andrea must have missed the joke.

"You want me to torture you, is that it?"

"I wouldn't say I want it," Joker replied, shrugging. "But the audience demands it!"

Her every instinct told her to shut him up, to end it there and then. Minds were open books to the Clown Prince, and he had a penchant for writing in little cliff notes that drove people over the edge. She knew she couldn't let him play his games and yet… this did seem too easy, too quick. He didn't deserve such a kind fate.

Thoughts raced through her mind. Was she right where Joker wanted her, falling into his trap? It probably was a distraction. Nevertheless, against her better judgement, she decided to hear him out. What difference would it make? There was no escape, nobody looking for him. Not even the Batman would save this S.O.B.

And she wanted to make him suffer.

"Talk, clown."

"Oooh, that's a good one. Nobody's ever called me that before. Oh wait, I did! The Clown Prince of Crime… I've got my work cut out for me." Joker chuckled.

"Just know that I'm watching you. Don't try any-"

"Funny business? Hehe, wouldn't dream of it." He licked his lips dramatically and smiled. "Now, where to start? Hmm… not the beginning that's for sure. That's far too conventional! Somewhere in the middle, like: why are you trying to kill me? No, really, I wasn't paying attention to the plotline."

Andrea scowled. "You killed my father for Valestra."

Joker's face scrunched up and his eyes drifted up to the ceiling as if he was thinking hard. He made a small humming noise and pouted, then made an exaggerated clueless face.

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell."

Andrea's eyes widened in disbelief. Anger overtook her and she threw her full force into a right hook that rattled the Joker's teeth. The clown's head lurched left, then sprang back again like a ball on a string. Andrea couldn't believe it. After everything that monster had done he was pretending he didn't remember.

How could anyone forget?

Her father's body had been so badly disfigured they had been forced to use dental records to identify him. Fire had erased any evidence of the cause of death, and the morticians had been paid not to look too close.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Joker said, blinking away the stars in his vision. "I can hear ringing, hehe. You've taken your first step, grasshopper. Or leap. Or hop, skip and a jump."

"Get on with it. Or should I just start carving you up?"

"See, this is what I mean. No finesse. No patience. Like I said, dramatic irony. Or serendipity. Let's say you were shot in the spine and never walked again. You don't just put a bullet in the guy's head, that's no fun at all. You blow out his kneecap, haha." Joker beamed, but mirth soon morphed to malevolence. "So, what you've got to ask yourself is, what did I do to dear old Dad?"


	3. Truth Hurts

"What…what did you do?"

Andrea braced herself, but she could already feel her lip trembling and her eyes stinging. Her stomach churned as all the tortures she'd imagined raced through her head. These were the dreams that woke her every night. Now she'd finally learn the truth.

Joker leaned forward and spoke in a conspiring tone.

"Maybe it's quicker if I tell you what I didn't do."

Again, Andrea's hand lashed out. Her nails left scratch marks on the Joker's ashen cheek, but the villain simply spluttered with laughter. There was nothing she could do to him. All of her fantasies, imaging his fear, her revenge. They were childish dreams.

"You sick freak," she breathed, all attempt at intimidation gone.

"Please, you flatter me. But we're straying from the point and getting all upset. Your old man was just the same, you know. Always crying. Til I put a smile on his face." Joker cackled, coughed and cackled some more. "Mind you, not much room for payback in that regard."

"I could wipe the smile off your face."

"Oh, good one! I mean it this time. You're getting better already."

Andrea kicked the chair, and the Joker toppled on his side with a thud. His head smacked heavily against the cold factory floor. Blood trickled across the concrete.

"Just…tell me. Tell me what I want to know."

"Oh no, you've gone and undone all your hard work," Joker jibed gleefully. He looked slightly dazed from the fall. "And you were doing so well. Now you've gone all weepy. But okay. You know how I like to make a person happy. I'll tell you how I put your father out of his misery."

Tears began to roll from her eyes as she crouched down beside the madman. This was it; the secret of his final moments. Silently she prayed it was quick and painless, but in her heart she knew it could never be the latter. _Let it be quick_, she thought. _Let it, at least, have been quick._

"Well?"

"Come down here, let me whisper it to you. It's a secret."

She dropped to her knees and leaned forward, putting her ear as close to his mouth as she dared. Joker licked his lips and then his teeth, smiling vacantly.

"Closer. Closer." Joker begged. She inclined her head just a little more. "Let's just say, he had a warm send-off. Hahahaha!"


	4. Fear the Joker

"Oh God."

Andrea fell back on her haunches, a sickness rising in her stomach. A cold sweat glistened on her skin and her body went numb. The Joker's laughter faded into the distance as the world melted away until all she knew was sorrow and grief.

Burned to death.

Of all the nightmares, that had been the worst. Slow. Painful. She wondered morosely if the Joker had stayed to watch or simply lit the match and walked away. It was a question best left unanswered. She wished he hadn't told her at all.

The remains had been charred, she'd known that. But she'd always hoped it was after...

She screamed, and the sound drowned out the cackling and echoed through the factory, until the building itself seemed to scream along with her. A thousand voices inside the empty vats, a thousand faces at every broken window, a thousand on the runways and in the offices and hanging from the ceiling like bats, all screaming along with her.

And then it became a sob.

Her body wracked with the wave after wave of tears flowing down her cheeks. She cried until her eyes stung and her jaw ached. She fell back, laying on the dusty floor in the foetal position, feeling her world unravel.

And then she blacked out.

Whether she'd fallen asleep, fainted or simply suffered a mental lapse she couldn't say. She had no idea if she'd been there hours or minutes. Joker seemed to have slipped out of consciousness again.

Shakily, she stood. Her face felt as bruised and puffy as the Joker's. Sniffing loudly, she toed the Joker's chest. Then again, harder. He stirred, groaned and looked up at her through the slit of his right eye.

"Oh, goody," he croaked. "The cry-baby is awake."

"Don't worry. Things are about to lighten up."

Joker peered at her then began to chuckle as he caught her meaning. Andrea set her jaw firmly and took the lighter from her pocket. There was no gasoline around, or any other kind of flammable liquid but she wouldn't let that stop her. Inch by inch was just as good.

"You're not going to do it here are you? I thought you'd learned your lesson. Killing me here is all about me, and you can never have too much about me," he giggled. "But revenge is about ol whatshisname. You've got to set the stage properly, somewhere relevant. Somewhere that matters to him."

Andrea smirked coldly. She knew just the place.

Outside, Andrea checked that the coast was clear. It was still night, but barely. Soon, the early risers would be on the streets, and the journey would be too risky. Transporting any hostage would be noticed, but one as recognizable as the Joker?

She turned and stepped back inside through the fire exit door. The factory smelled of dust and the faint scent of caustic chemicals that would never fully dissipate. Webbing decorated every nook and cranny, giving the place a haunted feel, magnified by the metallic groans of rusting machinery and the wind wheezing through the broken windows.

Andrea shivered. She couldn't wait to be out of there.

Joker lay on his side, humming quietly to himself as he waited. If he was concerned at all by his imminent death, he didn't show it. Andreas supposed that a warped mind such as his had problems facing reality. Maybe he just didn't understand. Not that it mattered.

Marching over to the upended chair, she grabbed the shock of green hair and pulled him upright. His blood red lips curled in a mix of pain and amusement, his good eye scrunched shut.

"Oooh, ow," he whinged. "I can see this is going to be another bad hair day."

Ignoring him, she undid the ropes. Slowly, cautiously, Joker was released from the chair. Rolling his head, he produced a loud crack in his neck and sighed happily. Then he rolled his shoulders with the same result. Andrea flinched at the noise.

The sooner he was out of her life, out of everyone's life, the better.

"Get up," she ordered tonelessly.

Joker shrugged, lifted his legs and used them as a counterweight to bring his body up off the chair. As his legs hit the ground, he vaulted forward, straight at Andrea. Before she'd had time to react, his head had connected with her nose and the factory went fuzzy.

She'd expected something, but all this time he'd been so calm, so tired and weak. He'd been playing her from the start. Revenge was an art form to him, but that wasn't the reason for the 'lessons'. That had been obvious from the start. But she thought he was hoping for someone else to save him: Batman, the GCPD, one of his goons.

She should have seen it coming, but the joke was all on her.

Andrea opened her eyes, trying to make sense of her blurred vision. To make matters worse, her nose had burst, bringing tears to her eyes and spraying blood over her face. She could barely see through the tears and crimson droplets hanging from her eyelashes.

Where was Joker?

Thump. The crowbar caught her in the stomach and she crumpled, hugging herself as she tried to regain her breath. The next blow caught her on the chin, and she bit down hard on her tongue. A coppery taste filled her mouth as she fell to the floor.

"Ah, my trusty pest-swatter," Joker chirped. "Good for birds, bugs and broads. Never leave home without it."

Another blow crashed down into her back as the Joker howled with laughter. A tooth dripped from her mouth, dislodged by the shot to her chin and shaken out by the latest impact. Her body cried out in pain as the shockwaves surged through the bones, shaking her to the core.

Perhaps burning alive wasn't the absolute worst way to go, after all.

"Don't worry," Joker cooed. "Be happy. I'm not going to kill you. That would make me a bad host, and nobody says that about Joker. No, no, no. You and me are gonna share some stories, have a laugh, get to know one another."

Andrea tried in vain to get up, but there was no energy left.

"We're gonna have a funtasm."


End file.
